Love is part of healing

   I thought I would find healing in the next child. The next child in my Kindergarten or in a baby I would birth or adopt or somehow bring into my life.

  These all came from places of children I could love. That loving was the path. Learning and growing too, but all in and around and under my gaze of Love.

  That doesn't make sense. That at the time when I am only a shadow of myself, when even my own thoughts and intuitions could be all wrong. When I was in darkness and couldn't feel life. It makes no sense that what would pull me out would be giving more of me.

 Yes, giving more would be disappearing into others. It would be noble and it would be fine.
But it would not at all heal me. Instead it would take the very few breaths I had left, breaths that were for me to drink in slowly and exhale with tears. It would take those very last ounces of life away.

And i need to take a breath for me. I need to take two or three. I need to say that it is okay to have a moment that makes me feel warmth and trust and hope and strength.

I want to hold the whole world.
But who is holding me.

I'm sorry to ask. But i think to heal, I need someone to really see me, see my pain, and LOVE ME OUT LOUD!!!

(maybe...or not.. it's okay...i'll just find some solace in speaking this here and in knowing that sometimes my cat purr-talks and comes all the way up to me - right up into my face and just curls up awkwardly on my chest... i think she might be saying she loves me)